


Life this Life - Or Death and All its friends

by Lady_Santos8991



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Music, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Santos8991/pseuds/Lady_Santos8991
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is banished on Midgard after being defeated by 'The Avengers'. Now, on a cafe in New York City, he tries to give a new path to his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life this Life - Or Death and All its friends

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Life The Life – Or The Death and all its Friends.  
> Author: Beatriz santos a.k.a Lady Santos  
> Date: August, 10th, 2012/November,19th,2012.  
> Words: 1732 words.  
> Chapter(s): One of one – Complete.  
> Warnings: Spoilers of ‘The avengers’ and ‘Thor’. Loki whump.
> 
> Note: Notice English is not my first language. Whoever is willing to beta read this piece, be free to do it. I ask for UK Beta Readers for the propose of putting the fic in Loki words.
> 
> Disclaim Her: Avengers, Thor, Norse Mythology and Viva la Vida do not belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners and this piece of literature was created only by fun.  
> Enjoy it.

He was uncomfortable in Midgard; this was no surprise even for the most obtuse minds of society, although, a very few things made him feel ... good. They were rare occasions, however, Such as going to a library without being pestered by his older _not-_ brother or being capable of walk around without pretending to be... conformed to the events around him.

 The All-Father took from him his Power and immortality as punishment for his crimes against the Reigns of Yggdrasil. When his sentence was declared, He had not complained about the situation, but also had not looked into anyone’s eyes. He had feared what He could find in the looks of his false friends and false familiars and, above all, feared the look of sadness and grief in his Mother’s eyes.

 At last, He was sent to Midgard – Earth, it was how the mortals called their Reign now – and, according to the All-Father, He would stay there until show regret of his actions. Such thing would never happen at least in the next two millennia. He never regrets.

 As soon as He landed – very ungracefully, He must add – those SHIELD agents came to arrest him. Among them was the Archer, Who served him so well while He was upon his dominance, and the Assassin. They took him to the very same place as the first time (trough there was no monster in disguise looking at him as he passed). And for a moment, he thought in the irony of having to mighty commanders with an eye patch on his heels, but made no comment or obligation, only explained what He was doing in that miserable Reign.

 The Director let him go, with a residence and false Identity (Thomas _something_ , He rarely used it anyways) – a courtesy He might remember of thanking later – and as soon as He could, he had gone to a place the humans call _Cafe._ He liked the small place; it was calm, comfortable and warm. But it was impossible, even because his kin would never appreciate the warmth and the heat.

 This was nearly one year ago, and He had a routine now: everyday, He would wake up, eat and take Nice walk through Central Park – always slightly surprised by the paradox residing there: the place was so green and _natural,_ against the concrete jungle – and, in cases of Fridays and weekend, He would go to the Library or a Museum. Satisfied with his discoveries about the world which he was perpetually exiled in, He would go to the _Café._

Asked always the same dish – Green tea and a sandwich – and there hw would stay, observing the mortals entering and outing, studying their miserable lives.

Not that _his_ life was different now.

And _He_ was _Loki_.                                

 Just Loki. Not a Odinson, but never a son of Laufey. He was no prince of Asgard nor Jötunheim. He had no family nor friends – Not that he ever had friends in his life; Lady Sif and The Warriors Three would only support him because of his oaf _not-brother_.

Now, alone and lost in this world, He dared to think about his... about _Thor._

Thor was not dumb, naïve, but not dumb. He just loved to take for himself the truths about anything and that was his Achilles’ heel – as the Midgardians would say; Trust. The God of Thunder trusted too much in Loki, and the God of Mischief had broken his heart in one million of pieces. However, on that _café_ , Loki asked himself about those words. Words said by himself on ‘ his Brother’s Big day’, only to calm the blond God:

_“I have looked forward for this Day as much as you have. You are my brother and my friend... Sometimes I’m envious, but never doubt I love you.”_

Were they true at the time? Were they true _now_? After all, He had read in of those Midgardian books that the opposite to Love was not hate, but Indifference; therefore, If He really hated Thor as much as He claimed to, was because, deep inside, Loki still felt something for him.

 _‘But such sentiments no longer matter’_  He shook his head to free it of the thoughts while He sipped his tea – which was already a bit chilly, demonstrating how long He was there and how greatly he was thinking.

Loki was ready to go when He heard music coming from the cafe’s back. It as Friday night (Or, as he would proudly call, Frigga’s night), and occasionally there some kind of show, and usually He was far back _home_ when such Midgardians frivolities started.

 __I used to rule the world  
Seas would rise when I gave the word  
Now in the morning I sleep alone  
Sweep the streets I used to own

Funny how the Midgardian music pictured his very condition: One day he was sitting on throne of Asgard, in the other he had to work for sustain himself.

 __I used to roll the dice  
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes  
Listened as the crowd would sing  
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

In that moment, came back to Loki the memories of _The Night;_ The night He discovered his true self, his heritage, his true kin. And how he yelled at Odin, asking for answers he already knew, Just wanted to hear them from his _not-Father(his not-king)_. Memories of when he was crowned King of The Eternal Helm, of the most expressions of surprise and horror He received from the Might Thor’s friends.

His Mother trusting in him about doing the right thing.

Of the lie He told to his _not-brother,_ as the very same ‘God of Thunder’ was in a similar situation – or far worse, considering Thor had simply the clothes He wore (and the compassion of the mortal woman) - , about the… the All-Father being dead.

 __One minute I held the key  
Next the walls were closed on me  
And I discovered that my castles stand  
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

 __I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing  
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing  
Be my mirror, my sword and shield  
My missionaries in a foreign field

And then his most recent failure: Conquering Midgard. Of how He acquired the Tesseract and his allies (almost as fake as his oh so called _family_ ), and how, so suddenly and painfully, everything was torn away from him.

Or maybe not! Maybe He could have foreseen that all _this_ was going to happen. Loki’d never admit it, but the Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, that one Who shoot him with a weapon based on the Destroyer’s _technology_ , has had spoken truth: He lacked Conviction. Loki had not what fight for, Midgard was simply a bargain with the Chitauri and Thanos, a consolation prize for the unwanted Prince.

_“Who Controls the would-be King?!”_

_“I am a King!”_

__For some reason I can't explain  
Once you'd gone there was never  
Never an honest word  
That was when I ruled the world

And Sigyn. The Little Sigyn Who He had a relationship some eras behind. She trusted on him, just like Thor does. But who in their complete sanity would trust the God of Mischief and Lies?

And Chaos… _and Evil?_

 __It was the wicked and wild wind  
Blew down the doors to let me in  
Shattered windows and the sound of drums  
People couldn't believe what I'd become

 __Revolutionaries wait  
For my head on a silver plate  
Just a puppet on a lonely string  
Oh who would ever want to be king?

Ah, Yes. The expression in the Mighty Thor’s face was pricelees, as He bore witness to everything Loki had done and because Loki was willing to do it. The Thunderer was hurricane of emotions, never truly believed in what his **little brother** had became. But then the green eyed ‘mortal’ asked himself if so much destruction and blood thirsty was not his nature…

_“What, because I, I, I AM the monster parents tell their children about night?!”_

 And also had those Avengers. The earthlings, the ants, subjugated him as if the God was nothing ( _nothing but a stolen relic),_ each one with very distinct abilities. The soldier who survived the ice and his way to inspirit his own people; the Assassin and the Archer whose tried so much make themselves worthy; the Inventor who hides sadness and loneliness with drinks and ill-timed sarcasm; and the Monster…

Monster not so different of Loki himself, Who hid true form behind a glamour and intellect.

But Loki wanted to King, only King, nothing more. (He knew what he said to Thor, but things change, don’t they?) It was in his blood to be King, however, Asgard was never destined to be his and Jötunheim abandoned him. No world wanted him, even the Chitauri discarded the Fallen Prince in the first chance they had.

 __I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing  
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing  
Be my mirror, my sword and shield  
My missionaries in a foreign field

 __For some reason I can't explain  
I know Saint Peter won't call my name  
Never an honest word  
But that was when I ruled the world

In his months in Midgard, Loki learned about human costumes and beliefs, studied about the silly theories of Heavens and Hell, but could not help but compare the resemblances they had with Valhala and Hel, and asked himself to where He would GO: Valhala was reserved to the fierce warriors, as Thor, prepared to fight against Loki himself on Ragnarök. Then, all that left was Hel... well; at least He had the chance of ‘living’ with his dear Daughter.

 Frustrated with his own night, Loki called the waitress – He even knew her name, but She surely knew his (false one). Loki paid for what he had consumed; he knew how much he had spent since he ordered always the same dish.

“Wait”, He called the woman back when she was already leaving, “Could you inform what song was that?” Loki had not the habit of talking with the Midgardians, only when He needed information or when it was extremely necessary.

“It’s Viva La Vida, by Coldplay. It’s a British Rock Band. Bills understands it more than me….” The young waitress hadn’t noticed when the Ex-God of Mischief stood up and left.

Live the Life. That was thing Loki was willing to try.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank You for reading!  
> I'm thinking about doing a sequel with either Politik or Fix You...


End file.
